


When I met You

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Series: Fem!SnowBaz [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Autistic Simon Snow, Awkward Flirting, But make it messy, F/F, Female Simon Snow, Female Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Female Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Human Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Meet-Cute, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, Pining Simon Snow, Prompt Fic, Rule 63, Simon Snow in Love, Simone Snow - Freeform, Soft Simon Snow, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tumblr Prompt, Tyrania Basilia "Baz" Grimm-Pitch, fem!SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: I'm holding the cup and my rucksack in one hand, my mobile in the other, texting Penny because I'm late again while trying to push open the bloody door of the bookshop. (They sell coffee too for the reading area.)And of course, with my great luck (that I don't actually believe in), I end up spilling my latte all over someone.”What the bloody hell?” I hear a voice spit viciously.”I'm...so... sorry,” I yelp embarrassed and look up to see the best looking sneer in the whole of Britain. (I know that's presumptuous to assume, but still.)Fuck. It's her.Meet cute. But make it messy.Fem!SnowBaz, autistic Simone Snow.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Fem!SnowBaz [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866712
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	When I met You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theawkwardbibliophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/gifts).



> A one shot from Tumblr tripple prompt 7. bookstore!au + 4. meet messy + 11. “i know that it’s the thought that counts but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it.”  
>   
> Thank you for this prompt, Jan. 💙 I hope you will enjoy it even though I took certain liberties with it.  
>   
> I'm not sure how this happened. But here we are. A one shot with Autistic!Fem!Simon.  
>   
> This isn't a way to portrait all people on the spectrum. We are all different. I'm writing from my own personal experiences of _myself_.  
>   
> I also have OCD. I don't think that has interfered with the concept of this one shot. But who knows. Sometimes it's difficult to sort certain things out.  
>   
> So I mention it just in case it might be triggering to anyone. This fic is **pure fluff**. But still.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thanks to the loveliest [shushu_yaoi_lj (llamapyjamas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/pseuds/shushu_yaoi_lj) for beta reading. And for cheering me on every single day for every fic I write and in general as well. You're such a great friend. 💙  
>   
> Tumblr prompts asks from [this list](https://gukyi.tumblr.com/post/179232367608/au-trope-prompt-game).  
>   
> I am currently writing a few more and will be posting on both Tumblr and ao3. New asks for prompts are always welcome. 💙
> 
> * * *

# SIMONE

I'm holding the cup and my rucksack in one hand, my mobile in the other, texting Penny because I'm late _again_ while trying to push open the bloody door of the bookshop. (They sell coffee too for the reading area.)

And of course, with my great luck (that I don't actually believe in), I end up spilling my latte all over someone.

”What the bloody hell?” I hear a voice spit viciously.

”I'm...so... sorry,” I yelp embarrassed and look up to see the best looking sneer in the whole of Britain. (I know that's presumptuous to assume, but still.)

Fuck. It's _her_. 

We’re standing outside of the bookshop, looking at each other. Well, that’d be probably staring in my case. She's holding her phone. I don't think I’ve spilt any coffee on it. 

The sneer is gone from her face. I'm not exactly sure what her expression says now...

Her name is Basilia Grimm-Pitch. She goes to my uni. And she's both gorgeous and smart. 

A lethal combination that turns me into a blubbering idiot.

I finished top five in my class in college. You would not know it from the way I act around her. I've tried unsuccessfully to approach her a few times prior to this unfortunate meeting. (Chickened out each time at the last minute.)

”I'm sorry,” I apologies again, not knowing what else to say. 

Her lilac shirt with black flowers is soaked wet from my spilt latte. I don't have a napkin. It fell down during the accident. So I do the first thing that comes to mind and start rubbing the liquid off with the sleeve of my sweater. It's thick cotton so it should be able to soak in the excess liquid. 

My eyes are locked on hers and I feel myself blush. Not for the first time I'm cursing bitterly at my complexion. _Tawny_ my arse. I'm as fair as they come.

However, it's dark and foggy outside today. Maybe she won't notice. 

I hate it that other people get to know when I'm flustered. It's like I come with a manual of my feelings for everyone to recognise while the rest of the world is a complete mystery to me. How is that fair?

Basilia raises a perfect brow at me. ”I know that it’s the thought that counts but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it.”

She glances down. I do too. And as it turns out, my sleeve has rolled down and I am more or less groping her with my hand. 

_You're such a moron, Simone._

I didn't notice myself. I'm not used to close encounters with girls I have a crush on. (There's only been one — her.)

”Sorry, Basilia,” I apologise again, mortified. Soon she'll think that is the only available word in my vocabulary. 

I want to add, _I'm smart, I swear._ I don't. No doubt she won't believe me, even if I did. I can kiss a good first impression goodbye (as Penny says it).

Oh no. I just called Basilia by her first name. Now she’ll know I've been looking at her — for a whole year. And asking people around as well. 

Although, it was mostly Penny and Shep. I hope they haven't told her anything. 

The three of them share a Philosophy class. 

Which is more than a little impressive. I study mathematics. It's much easier — everything is by the book. Nothing left to interpretation. 

My cheeks are burning like crazy and now Basilia must notice my blush for sure.

I swallow hard and wonder if it's possible to die from embarrassment… If it is, I hope I go sooner rather than later. 

Except her face and her eyes don't look angry. (I don't think. I struggle with understanding facial expressions on a daily basis.)

I usually don't want to look people in the eyes even if I do it anyway. (Because it's the polite thing to do. Who came up with that nonsense anyway?)

But her grey eyes are beautiful and dreamy. And they are too pretty not to gaze into. 

”It’s Baz, actually. For close friends,” she says and winks at me.

The fact that she's winked means she is definitely _not_ cross with me. (Penny told me this.)

”I didn't know we were close friends,” I blurt out like the idiot that I am. (At least I managed to get some words out at all.)

Is she being friendly or taking the piss, I wonder. 

”Well, Simone,” she smirks and her voice sounds cheerful or maybe amused (who could tell). ”If you join me for coffee, we just might become very close friends.”

Basilia, no — _Baz_ is so bloody confident. I wanted to ask her for coffee, at least twice a week, for the last year. 

And she just asked me herself. Does this by any chance mean that Baz hasn't noticed how awkward I am yet?

Baz wants us to be friends. I’d rather be her girlfriend. But friends sound good too. 

I gather it’d be easier to become her girlfriend if we start spending time together face to face instead of me staring at her from across the lawn. 

Then it hits me. ”You know my name?”

She flips her hair — black and beautiful and cut in a shoulder length bob. 

I really want to know how it feels to the touch. It looks like what people typically call silky. I wonder how her shampoo smells. Mine smells of freshly cut grass. Cypress is what is written on the bottle but that is highly inaccurate.

”I do. And you know mine,” Baz smiles what could be qualified as a kind smile. That means she's probably happy. (From personal observations I'd say it's approximately a 90% chance.)

”It’d be an awkward date otherwise,” she adds and swallows. ”If you want to and you're free at the moment, that is.”

I can't tell if _her_ cheeks are burning as mine or not. Baz’s skin is the most beautiful coppery shade. 

However, I think she might be nervous. Is she not as confident as I thought her to be?

”I want to...and...I am...free.” I almost tumble over my words while trying not to smile too wide. I don't want to scare her off with all these feelings I’ve been harbouring for months now. 

We’re going to get coffee, Baz and I. And it's going to be a date too. I can hardly believe it. 

How did that even happen? 

I should probably think about that and backtrace all my steps later — at a more convenient time. (Not while I am just about to go on a date with the girl of my dreams.)

Despite the overwhelming happiness, I'm getting a bit panicky. I don't actually know how to date. 

Fuck. What if she thinks I'm a complete weirdo. (I am. Penny says some people will find it endearing.)

”Your pendant is pretty,” Baz says. 

I'm just noticing that I'm tugging at it mercilessly. 

It's my substitute death skull pendant. My favourite one is being repaired. The chain broke and I can't use it with a different one. It bothers me too much.

”Thank you,” I say swallowing. ”Most people don't think my pendants are _pretty_.” 

But Baz smiles and it looks genuine. She must mean it. 

”I do,” she says. ”I like the one you usually wear better, though.”

”You've seen it on me before?” I ask and wonder why the hell I am stating the obvious.

Baz tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

”You're hard to miss.” 

Is that an insult or a compliment? 

But as I watch her smile and lick her lips, I start to think maybe she meant it as a compliment. 

Which is surprising. 

Baz is flawless. (I try not to stare at her too much.) 

She's so beautiful. And her fingers are long and elegant. There’s some sparkly lilac polish on her nails. 

My nails are short, black and chipped. 

I look like a slob next to her. 

Her black jeans are snug and look perfect and glamorous on her. 

Everything I'm wearing is black but not a pretty shade of black. The jeans are seven years old with tears on them. The sweater is even older and the sleeves are completely frayed. 

I don't like buying new clothes unless I have to. New things feel uncomfortable against my skin.

Despite her kind (possibly flirty) demeanour, I'm a bit too flustered to respond. I’m terrified of saying the wrong thing. How does one flirt exactly? 

I want to tell Baz that she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. But that might be coming on too strong… And I am getting worried again. 

I toss the empty cup in the nearby bin. Then pick up my rucksack from the ground (I accidentally dropped it after the incident), hoping I don't look too awkward.

”How about that coffee?” She asks and I'm thankful she started talking. 

The long pause that stretched between us might have never ended, if Baz had been waiting for me to speak first. 

”I’ve never been on a date before,” I admit and wonder if I am actively trying to talk her out of dating me with my behaviour. 

”No worries,” Baz smiles, her eyes are piercing mine and something settles inside me. ”Neither have I. We’ll figure it out together.” 

I smile too and open the door to the bookshop. 

Penny says some people think it's degrading. Others think it's a show of respect and or affection. (Shep told me that Penny secretly enjoys it.)

”After you then.” 

”Thank you,” Baz smiles again and walks in. I follow after, overjoyed that holding the door for her wasn't a terrible idea after all.

I wonder if I will get to kiss Baz after our date. Or is it too soon? 

How long is it appropriate to wait exactly? Maybe she knows. Or should I ask Penny and Shep instead?

Oh, I need to text Penny and tell her I'm not coming over.

”What are you having?” Baz asks as we get closer to the queue, and then looks down at her stained shirt. ”A latte I presume?”

”Um. Yes. And sorry again.”

”Don't be. I got to finally meet you after all. A good story to tell our grandchildren.” Even though I can't see her blush, I can tell she's nervous from the way she looks. 

She looks like _me_. 

I'm nervous as well. But I want Baz to feel at ease around me. So I do the only thing I can think of on such short notice. I reach out my hand towards her. 

When she takes it, I squeeze it lightly. 

Her hand is so soft in mine and so pleasant to the touch. 

We’re both smiling now and it's giving me a feeling that Penny calls butterflies in my stomach. 

”What kind of coffee are you having?” I ask. 

”Pumpkin mocha breve.”

”I hope you're not planning on giving that to our future grandchildren. That's a liquid chocolate bar.” I chuckle and honestly have no idea when I've become that brave. 

Baz laughs and it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I need to make her laugh again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 💙


End file.
